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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834037">Witness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_abounding_sentiment/pseuds/an_abounding_sentiment'>an_abounding_sentiment</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(its not the siblings shockingly), Angst, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, another fic in which vasily is trash, marya is like mentioned, very lightly referenced</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:55:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_abounding_sentiment/pseuds/an_abounding_sentiment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Helene and Anatole catch their father changes a whole lot more than their family dynamic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marya Dmitryevna Akhrosimova/Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Witness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I dunno. I wrote a fun lil thing in a short time, and will probably go back and change some things because the ending feels a bit rushed.<br/>Also, I have no clue what's up with the influx of Comet fics, but I am NOT complaining.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>"Helene, come on, maybe you shouldn't-" Anatole tried shakily, grabbing her shoulder and ripping her out of the hallway before their dad could see that she saw. She jerked away from him to try and avoid his touch, but did so silently. Her eyes locked on the bedroom down the hall until he pulled her out of view. Her eyes were wide, finally dragging to meet Anatole’s. Their stare lasted ten seconds before he cleared his throat. "I'm going to get us drinks," He narrated slowly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The pair of siblings finished an entire bottle of vodka that night. He made a drinking game because he didn't know how else to handle this. Anatole didn’t how to process that the accusations were true, and Helene that her reality just shattered. So they drank every time they heard the bed several doors down creaking. They got to the point they were both sitting in the bathroom with their heads leaned against the wall, rotating who was throwing up into their toilet. Helene passed out on the floor hoping it was a dream and Anatole knowing it wasn't. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>But when Anatole woke up the first thing he noticed was Helene wasn't there. Then the headache. Then the nausea. Even as he felt a whole extreme of hungover, he didn't regret it. He couldn't have dealt with that reality sober. As quickly as his body allowed in the moment he opened the bathroom door. The house was quiet; that didn't happen often with the state of their parents marriage anymore. He shot her a quick text to make sure she wasn't puking her guts out on her carpet or something and began to head downstairs; she'd probably appreciate a glass of water as much as he did. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>But then Anatole saw Helene, leaning against the fridge with her arms at her sides and shoulders hunched over. Vasily was at the table, laptop in front of him, eyes peering up at her. They were talking. Calmly, even. Then again, Anatole knew that could mean just as many bad things as good ones-they didn't argue that much oddly enough, and when they did neither of them yelled. Vasily only when Helene pushed him. Which, by the looks of it, his sister was trying very hard not to do. The blonde intentionally stayed as invisible as possible, knowing how delicate the father-daughter conversations were. Vasily yelled. He did so constantly; the only reason he didn't was because Helene trained herself for years to upset him as little as possible. No matter how perfect she was, their father if not doing so already was always seconds from a rage. And Anatole knew those seconds would snap the second he dared to 'intrude'. Then both of them were done for. Anatole almost choked when he heard Helene’s first audible question to him. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What was her name?" She asked, voice still stuffy but showing a lot more restraint than Anatole would have been capable of. That was why she was Daddy's little girl. She could do what Anatole and hell, even his wife couldn't do. The conversation had been going on for a while, he decided; Helene wouldn't have started off a conversation with that. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This isn't child's play," He declared coldly, but it wasn't a warning. How she managed to keep him at bay with a question like that he didn't know. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I take it she isn't-" Helene cut herself off. He couldn’t see her from where he'd put himself, but he could practically hear her running through possibilities. "-are you and mom going to get a divorce?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, that's a stupid question," He scoffed, tone patronizing. "Why would I need to? It isnt like she is going to find out," Anatole winced at the words and Helene sucked in air through her teeth. "Don't be stupid, Elena. You must have known," </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Is she here often?" Her voice was shaking now, and Anatole prayed his sister wouldn't cry. If she cried, well, Anatole didn't want to think about it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Elena. Why wouldn't I do this if neither of us are happy?" Vasily questioned, followed by the sound of his laptop closing. "You need to find happiness. It doesn't come from marriage,"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You used to say you loved her,"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Helene, my dear, love isn't real. Happiness is. No one is ever going to love you. It's an illusion, darling," </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Love isn't real. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Anatole would never forget that sentence. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was years later, years after these words had manifested into idealizations of relationships that shouldn't have existed in people so young. Marya told Helene she loved her and Helene just stared at her. Her jaw clenched, eyes hardening, and that was not the reaction Marya expected. Then, within seconds, Helene threw the nearest thing to her to the ground. Her voice was so quiet Marya almost didn't hear it: "So you're done with me?" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Anatole heard those words at fourteen years old. He didn't understand what all these people were talking about. He didn't understand when they said they loved the person they were dating, only the love for activities or pets-things without genuine human feelings. Anatole never mentioned it to those who discussed it, only sank deeper into his seat at the cafeteria table and pretended to text so they wouldn't request his contribution to the conversation. He and Helene would laugh about it later: the inevitable. The falling Out of Love. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>If only they weren't so naive. </p>
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  <p> </p>
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